


Two Tomatoes, and a Bird

by PrussianSquiddle



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:11:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrussianSquiddle/pseuds/PrussianSquiddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spending a Friday night with your friends is fun, at least, when one doesn't bail on you so suddenly. Spain and Prussia find themselves spending their evening alone after France cancels their usual hangout. Having being lent a movie to watch as an apology, the Prussian and Spaniard get ready for a seemingly boring Friday night. That is, until Romano visits to spice it up. Unfortunately, none of them could ever expect the night to take a complete turn around upon seeing what kind of ‘movie’ France let them borrow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First submission on AO3. Also my first time writing yaoi, haha. Hope it's good enough!

It was a typical Friday evening; the weekend was approaching, and everyone was excited to be excused from their duties at work—especially the countries.

All throughout the week countries were expected to do various things, such as filling out paperwork, attend ceremonies, political parties, and boring meetings. Not to mention there was a _plethora_ of paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork. It was awful. And the worst part of it all was that the countries didn't get _nearly_ as many vacation days as ordinary citizens did. Why would they? They were the country they represented, after all. There was too much work to be done for them to be shirking their duties. Thankfully, they had the weekend to relax and enjoy themselves.

And that's just what the country of Spain intended on doing. He had the entire weekend planned out! Or, at least, he had... Before France suddenly decided to bail on him at the last minute. _“Je suis désolé!”_ He had said, _“But I simply have too much paperwork to finish!”_ Stupid France. He always waited until the last minute to finish his work. It was annoying. And now, because of him, Spain and Prussia were forced to be a two-man group for the evening. It was a little odd, to say the least, not having their usual trio together, but it wasn't so bad. The only problem is that they couldn't go to the bar like how they normally did; France was always the one who kept the two of them in check. But there were other ways to enjoy the evening! Such as watching movies, like how they currently were.

“Leave it to France to bail on us and totally ruin our Friday night. How unawesome!” Prussia complained as he lazily lounged on the couch. He pouted his lips dramatically, watching as Spain got the DVD player ready, letting him do pretty much all of the work.

“Perdonar y olvidar, amigo. Do not worry about it so much!” Spain said, getting to his feet and wiping at his forehead, a habit he had picked up from always tending to his tomato plants during the scorching summers of the country he represented. “Besides, we can still have lots'a fun without Francia, sí~?” The Spaniard had always been an optimist, and Prussia just always needed something to complain about. Nevertheless, the ex-nation sighed and crossed his arms firmly in front of his chest, nodding. “Ah, bueno! I'll go get the tapas then!” With that said, Spain scurried out of the living room and headed towards the kitchen, leaving Prussia alone to wait.

After a moment, though, Prussia suddenly heard something. It sounded like... someone knocking on the door? Yeah, that sounded about right. “Oi! Spain! Someone's knocking!” He called out to the Spaniard, tilting his head back on the couch and staring at the empty doorway. Everything looked upside-down like this... Not to mention blood was rushing to his head now. Prussia furrowed his brows and narrowed his eyes before letting out a groan and sitting up normally. “Spain!” He called out once more, getting to his feet and walking towards the foyer, “Ugh, never mind. I'll just answer it myself!” He grumbled, and then called out towards the door, “Awesome is coming! Be honored and cease your silly knocking!” He smirked widely and chortled at his own lame joke, and eventually made it to the door. Grabbing the knob and opening the large, oak door, Prussia felt his eyes widen upon seeing the person who had just been knocking.

“Ugh, you? I thought I smelled fucking potatoes. Should've known...” Without so much as a greeting or hello, Romano entered the house, pushing Prussia's arm aside and kicking his shoes off, “Where's that tomato-lover Spain?”

The Prussian blinked a few times before grinning widely, “Kesese! Romano, how great to see you~!” He chirped out, shutting the door and completely ignoring the southern Italian's question, “What're you doing here? And where's Italy~?”

Romano frowned, shutting his eyes angrily, “Chigi...” He grumbled, planting his palm on his face and clenching his other hand into a fist, “I'm here to see that fucker Spain, idiota. And my brother isn't here, obviously.” It was always annoying how those two German brothers were so obsessed with his little brother. Of all the people in the entire world, it had to be Germans, didn't it? And not just Germans, but German _representations_. It was just awful. “Now where's Spain?”

Prussia frowned with pursed lips; no Italy, huh? That sucked! Italy was so cute... He loved seeing that guy. But Romano was just as cute, so it was nice seeing him as well. “He's in the kitchen getting some food. We're about to watch an awesome movie!” Well, hopefully it was awesome. The Prussian wasn't so sure since France was the one who let them borrow it. He said it was a ‘steamy French classic that would really get the bedsheets rustling,’ but Prussia didn't know what that meant and ignored it. “Do you want to stay and watch it with us? It's not often anyone is graced with my awesomeness, so you should definitely say ‘ja’!” Not long after that was said, however, did Romano roughly headbutt the Prussian in the stomach, causing him to bend over and clutch his front with his hands.

“Vaffanculo! Potato bastard, I'd rather die.” Romano frowned after a moment, however, and felt his cheeks tingle with a small blush, “B-but... I will watch it with that bastard Spain.” With that said, the southern Italian walked off towards the living room. He was more than familiar with this house, considering he had lived here for nearly his entire childhood.

Meanwhile, Prussia sat on his knees on the floor, clutching his stomach and coughing. That had really hurt! How in the world did Spain deal with that on a regular basis?! It was definitely something the Prussian himself could never accomplish.

“Prussia! Estás bien? What happened?” The voice of Spain called out, before he started approaching his wounded friend, an apron tied around his waist and oven mittens on his hands. Oddly enough, those things suited the Spaniard well.

“Ack... Kesese! Everything is OK!” Prussia suddenly exclaimed louder than necessary, forcing himself to stand up tall and proud, his hands resting on his hips, “Kese! It's not like the awesome me was bested by a silly Italian or anything! Because that would be beyond unawesome...!” His smirk widened and a bead of sweat slid down the side of his face; that was totally what had just happened. But Spain was too dense to realize that.

“Eh? Okay...!” As was expected, the Spaniard had no idea what he was talking about, “By the way, I heard knocking. Did someone stop by?” He had been in the middle of dealing with some hot dishes, so he didn't get the chance to step away from the oven, unfortunately. He was glad Prussia had come to the rescue, though!

The Prussian blinked his ruby eyes, and then he dropped his hands down to dangle at his waist, “Oh, ja. Romano stopped by to see you. He's in the living room—” But before he could even finish his sentence—no, before he could even blink—Spain was rushing out of the foyer and towards the living room. Prussia blinked in confusion, obviously baffled as to why the Spaniard ran out so hastily, but soon understood after hearing many Italian swears coming from the room Spain just dashed off towards.

“Augh! You fucker! Get away from me!” Romano's voice rang out throughout the house like a broken bell, and Prussia chuckled as he entered the living room. What he saw wasn't what he had expected to see, however.

On the floor Spain had the southern Italian pinned down, a big grin on his face as he nuzzled his nose into Romano's neck affectionately. Prussia felt his eyebrow twitch at the sight as he swallowed dryly from seeing such a large, adorable blush on the Italian's face. A sigh slipped from his lips, and he lazily fell onto the couch, arms resting on the very top of the furniture, “When you two are done keeping the awesome me waiting, we can finally watch this movie France gave us.” He sighed once more, eyes briefly glancing at the Spaniard as he showered Romano with the affection he was too stubborn to admit he liked.

After a few more moments—and a harsh headbutt to the face—Spain stood up, nervously scratching the back of his head and tousling his curly brown hair as a result, “Haha~ Lo siento, Prussia! I heard Roma's name and I guess I lost control!” It was known amongst nearly every nation by now how much Spain cared for the southern Italian. At first it had been a paternal type of affection, back when Romano was younger. But now it was more than obvious that the two were a thing. It bothered the Prussian slightly, considering he liked both the Italy's quite a bit, but what could he do about it? If he touched Italy, his brother—Germany—would kill him. And if he touched Romano? Well, he definitely didn't want to piss Spain off.

“Ja, ja, whatever. Just hurry up and get the food so we can do this!” The last thing he wanted to hear was excuses! Especially not after witnessing what he just saw.

Spain smiled apologetically before nodding his head in excitement, “Sí! I will be right back!” Pumping his mitten-covered fist into the air, he was soon dashing out of the room, down the hall, and towards the kitchen. By now, Romano had sat up, letting out a groan as he rubbed his head and stood up on wobbly legs.

“Ugh, that bastard is too much.” He grumbled, teeth grit and olive green eyes narrowed. He continued rubbing his head, which was probably sore from headbutting Spain not too long ago. The southern Italian sat down in the middle of the couch—as the end side was reserved for Spain—and continued clutching his throbbing skull. Prussia turned his head to glance at Romano, lips pursed slightly in thought.

“Does it hurt?” He asked, ruby eyes blinking dumbly.

“What kind of question is that? Of course it fucking hurts.”

A moment of hesitance passed, before the Prussian did something he didn't even know he had the courage to do. He grabbed for Romano's wrist, pulling it away from his head before leaning forward and placing a delicate kiss on his forehead. Pulling away and dropping his wrist, Prussia stared at the other country's face as it slowly turned into the shade of a tomato. “Better?” The ex-nation asked, a small but somehow comforting smirk on his face. Romano could only sputter out incoherent words in response before grabbing the throw pillow on the couch, and smacking it against Prussia's face.

“Fucker!! Potato shit-face! Don't fucking touch me!” The southern Italian shouted, cheeks blazing a bright red as he smacked the pillow against Prussia.

“Kesese! I knew my awesome kisses were great enough to heal any wound!” The Prussian didn't mind at all that he was being beat with a pillow. Romano wasn't that strong, after all. The only thing threatening about the Italian was his headbutts.

“Hey!” Spain's accented voice suddenly called out as he entered the room with a tray of various tapas, “I didn't know we were havin’ a pillow fight!” The Spaniard was as oblivious as ever. After hearing his comment, both Romano and Prussia faltered, staring at him with wobbly grins on their faces. This was awkward. But maybe it was only awkward because the southern Italian was holding Prussia up by the shirt with a fist-full of pillow raised in the air.

After a moment, Romano let out a sigh, and dropped the Prussian's shirt, sitting down normally on the couch. He stared up at Spain with narrowed eyes, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. “Let's just watch this goddamn movie already.” He muttered grumpily, resulting in the Spaniard's emerald green eyes glistening with excitement.

“Ah~! Sí, sí!” He placed the tray of various tapas on the coffee table in front of the couch, grabbing the remote and then plumping down unceremoniously on the couch—directly beside Romano. Throwing his arm over the southern Italian and laughing happily, the Italian young man let out a wide variety of swears as Spain turned on the TV and started playing the movie. Meanwhile, Prussia simply sat on the other side of the couch—on Romano's right side—with his own arms crossed over his chest, body sinking down into the soft cushions. Now he felt like a third wheel!

“How unawesome...” He grumbled under his breath, just as the movie started to play.


	2. Chapter 2

About an hour passed by as the three countries watched the movie France had lent them. Romano had been skeptical the entire time—after all, this was _France_ we were talking about—while Spain and Prussia remained blissfully oblivious. Spain was more oblivious than anyone, though. Anyway, time went on in the movie, and it wasn't long before some... _questionable_ scenes started happening. First of all, there were quite a few heavily implied sexual scenes; and not just _any_ sexual scenes, but _homosexual_ sexual scenes. Which wouldn't have been an issue if not for the last questionable circumstance.

There was sex.

Yep. France had leant them all a gay porno. A gay, _French_ , porno. Both Romano and Prussia shrieked—in the least manliest way possible—upon seeing the vivid sex scene, while Spain stared at the TV screen with wide green eyes, as if he still didn't understand what was going on. He probably didn't.

“Che cazzo?! Turn this fucking shit off!” Romano screamed, his cheeks blazing with pure embarrassment. What the hell had he gotten himself into, watching a movie France had suggested?! He should have known it would've been straight-up porn! Heck; he had felt danger in his gut, but said nothing. Now he was regretting that decision.

Unfortunately, Spain didn't move, too focused on the movie to even press the buttons on the controller in his hand. His green eyes were wide with silent fascination. If one didn't know any better, they would assume he had never seen pornography before. But really, he was just studying it so he could learn knew positions to try on Romano. Of course, the last thing the southern Italian wanted to do was continue watching this, and Prussia felt the same exact way. So, he was the one who took action.

“Gottverdammt, Spain!” The Prussian shouted, his own face as dark as his unique eyes, “Quit staring at it like an arsch!” Quickly—and less than gracefully—he practically lunged his body over Romano's lap, and snatched the remote out of Spain's hand. Then, without even looking, he quickly pressed a button on the device, hoping it would turn the TV off.

It did not.

Instead, he hit the pause button, right at an extremely awkward, detailed sex scene. The Prussian's eyes went white and he shrieked once more, and Romano followed suit. “You fucking idiota!” The southern Italian shouted, snatching the remote out of Prussia's hands and finally turning the TV off. The two let out a heavy sigh of relief, while Spain stared at them obliviously and confusedly.

“What'd ya do that for?” He asked, a small grin stretching across his face and revealing cute little dimples on his cheeks, “It was gettin’ good!” He had really been enjoying that. France had excellent taste in movies!

Romano's dark, auburn brows furrowed angrily, and his hazel eyes narrowed, “You fucking pervert,” he spat out, crossing his arms over his chest and seemingly ignoring the fact that Prussia was still laying down on his lap, “That was disgusting. I don't want to see guys fucking.” It was bad enough he had to deal with Spain doing those things to him! Which he enjoyed, of course, but would never admit. He was too stubborn to admit such things.

The Spaniard laughed, his green eyes glinting almost mischievously, “Ooh~ Roma! We should try some of those positions, sí? I think it would be—”

“Fuck you!” Romano's face was scorching with heat by now, and his teeth were gritted so harshly they could crack. Prussia continued laying down on the Italian's lap, still feeling like an unawesome third wheel. It was the worst feeling ever. Eventually, though, he sat up and let out a sigh. Well, the movie was a big no, and now he was going to probably go home while Romano and Spain did the bed boogie. Totally unawesome.

“So, what now?” Prussia inquired, although he already had an idea.

Spain smiled widely, suddenly engulfing Romano in a big hug, burying his face into the Italian's neck and giving his sensitive curl a few playful—and oblivious—tugs, “I still think Roma and I should try out those positions~!” He chirped out in a sing-song voice.

“Ch-chigi! Stop being a fucking pervert!” His face only seemed to darken with each passing moment, but the Spaniard didn't care at all. Either that, or he was way too oblivious to even notice. The latter was highly more likely, though, and that was only proved after Spain nibbled at the skin of Romano's neck, earning an embarrassed and annoyed gasp from the Italian.

“I can't help myself with you, Roma~ You're just too cute to resist!” Chuckling after saying that, he placed a few more kisses on the Italian's sensitive skin, pretty much ignoring the fact that Prussia was watching—and now fuming—in front of them.

The Prussian's fists clenched and unclenched, his eyes narrowed almost dangerously. There was a strange emotion swirling in those fiery red orbs—jealousy, maybe? Most likely. If it wasn't bad enough that Prussia was almost always alone, the only other country's he actually liked were taken by people he cared deeply for—like his little brother and Spain. It really wasn't fair, but he had gotten over that. Having Romano and Spain's relationship thrust into his face wasn't helping his jealous emotions fade, however. “Fick... Get a room!” He eventually grumbled, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his mouth curved into a deep frown. Upon hearing him, Spain faltered in his affectionate kisses and glanced at his Prussian friend in confusion; Romano did the same. “How do you think it makes me feel, huh? Seeing you flaunting the adorable south Italy! It's totally unawesome of you, Spain!” Prussia huffed, his cheeks flushed in frustration as he slumped in his seat even more, his fingers digging into the fabric of his red hoodie as his arms tightened around his form. He honestly hadn't meant to snap at them like that; usually he just bottled up these types of emotions, but today was just too much, he guessed.

For a few moments, silence impregnated the room. Spain stared at the Prussian, that same oblivious gleam in his eyes. Romano also stared at him, but only for a moment. Soon, his cheeks felt too hot and he had to look away. It was weird to be called adorable by anyone—adorable was an adjective for his idiot brother. It was especially weird being referred to as south Italy. He was always just... Romano. There wasn't any meaning behind his name. That luxury was also reserved for his brother, much like all good things in the world.

The silence continued to stretch on for a few moments longer, before Romano at last grumbled, “Idiota...” under his breath. It wasn't exactly the best thing to say, but it was better than sitting here in a heavy, tensed silence for the rest of the night!

“Wait,” Spain eventually mumbled, his shiny, emerald orbs wide with confusion and curiosity. Both Romano and Prussia glanced at the Spanish country, expecting him to maybe say something semi-intelligent for once. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. “Prussia, are you sayin’ you wanna plow Roma?”

Prussia's face deadpanned; his eyes were wide with shock and embarrassment, and a deep, flustered blush overcame his normally pale cheeks. Did Spain seriously just ask that?! What kind of question was that?! Unfortunately, the ex-nation was so embarrassed he could scarcely even defend himself, and all that came out was nervous, humiliated sputters. This was so embarrassing...! Why would the Spaniard even ask such a ridiculous question?! This probably wouldn't be so embarrassing if Romano wasn't being so quiet, though. He was staring down at his lap, mouth a wobbly flat line and the blush on his face suddenly becoming much more prominent. It was absolutely adorable, and—at that moment—Prussia found himself actually wanting to say yes to Spain's question.

Anyway, after sputtering incoherent words like a dorky boy scout, the Prussian at last snapped, his face still burning brightly, “O-of c-course not! D-don't be ridiculous, you stupid arschloch!” How embarrassing was all of this? It was still weird, though, that Romano still hadn't said anything. Not like it mattered; he felt utterly humiliated!

More silence passed after Prussia shouted that like a dork. Spain simply stared at his friend with an unreadable expression on his face. The Prussian was the only one who looked stressed beyond belief, with his eyes wide and his mouth awkwardly curling up into a wobbly smirk. It suddenly felt hot—much too hot for him to be wearing a hoodie like how he was. He almost considered removing it, but then remembered all he wore underneath was his black tank top. Doing so would only make this even more awkward, so he was quick to disregard the thought.

Suddenly, however, Spain grinned widely—albeit it was somewhat strained, but a grin nonetheless. Prussia's smirk faltered and his ruby orbs gazed at his Spanish friend incredulously. Why in the world was he smiling in such a way? Then, though, the Spaniard did something that no one probably expected. He turned on the couch so that he was facing the other two men, and then crossed his legs on the cushiony surface, before wrapping his arms around Romano and pulling him close, eliciting a few swears from the southern Italian. “Fuck! What are you doing?! Don't touch me, you bastard!” He shouted, cheeks blazing with obvious frustration.

The fuming Italian was settled onto Spain's lap, and he chuckled as he wrapped an arm around Romano's waist, “Calm down, Roma~” The Spaniard quietly murmured, although there was mischief laced in his voice that made what he said sound unconvincing. Reverting his attention back to Prussia, Spain only grinned even wider, “Prussia?”

The Prussian flinched, red eyes wide and wavering, “J-ja?”

Another moment of silence passed, and honestly, it was rather unnerving; especially for Romano, who was currently being held tighter... and tighter... It also didn't help that he couldn't see Spain at all, even if he turned his head to glance at him. It was quite the predicament, that was for sure—and the southern Italian didn't like it at all.

Anyway, after a few more moments went by, Spain finally spoke, but not before nuzzling his face into Romano's neck and then resting his chin on the now-blushing Italian's shoulder, “I'll make a deal with you, Prussia,” he at last stated, pausing and gauging the Prussian's undoubtedly interested reaction. After satisfyingly seeing the ex-nation lock his ruby eyes on the Spaniard's green orbs, he grinned and chuckled, “Just this once...” His voice drawled out, attempting to tease both Prussia and Romano with his amazing idea, “I'll share Roma with you, sí?”


End file.
